by Jane Casey
‘Where have you been hiding? You’ve been here for a few days, I gather.’
‘I’ve been around.’
‘No, you haven’t. I’ve been looking for you.’ Dan said it gently, though, and Mum blushed.
‘It’s taken me a little time to get used to being back.’
‘But now you’re at home.’
‘Not quite. It’s still strange, being here.’
‘It hasn’t changed. Nothing changes.’
‘I don’t think that’s true. Time makes a difference to everything.’
‘Not to everything. Some things stay the same.’ His voice was heavy with meaning and Mum blushed again, obviously knowing exactly what he meant.
Oh, please don’t talk about this in front of me. I wanted to know what had happened, but I didn’t want to be a spectator at their reunion if I could avoid it. I coughed and the two of them looked at me as if they’d forgotten my existence up to that point. ‘Hi.’
‘Oh, sorry. This is Jess, Dan. My daughter.’
‘I know. I met her this morning.’ He frowned at me and I could tell what he was thinking. You didn’t tell her. I was so busted.
‘We were just going for a walk,’ I said. And so, goodbye.
Dan was back to staring at Mum. ‘Why don’t you come for a walk with me instead, Molly?’
Mum looked terrified. ‘I couldn’t take you away from your work.’
‘It’s OK. I’m not busy.’
I cut across Mum, who was starting to wibble. ‘Yeah, but this is sort of a mother–daughter thing we’ve been planning.’
Dan glared and I could have sworn the temperature dropped to Siberian levels. ‘How old are you, Jess?’
‘Sixteen.’
‘Right. Well, you’ve had sixteen years to do mother–daughter things. I haven’t seen Molly for even longer than that. So I think that means I get to decide what happens here, and I’m afraid it doesn’t include you. Your mum and I have a lot of catching up to do.’
‘Dan, stop bullying her.’ Mum put her arm around my shoulders. ‘You don’t get to decide what happens, actually. I do.’
Dan looked as if he’d been sucker-punched by a rabbit with a mean left hook, which made it all the sweeter. You weren’t expecting that, were you?
And then Mum turned to me.
‘Jess, is it OK if we have our walk another time?’
‘Sorry?’ I wasn’t being a smart-arse; I genuinely couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
‘I’d like to talk to Dan.’
‘What happened to doing what you want?’ I hissed.
‘This is what I want.’ Mum was still pink, but she looked determined too. Determined to get rid of me. ‘I haven’t seen him for a long time and we need to get a few things straight.’
I knew she was expecting me to kick off and ask what sort of things they needed to get straight, but I didn’t. I knew already. It was in the way he looked at her, and the way she was holding herself, her arms wrapped around her body as if that was all that was keeping her in one piece. This was it – this was the serious relationship she’d been refusing to discuss a few minutes earlier. This was what had driven her into my father’s arms. This was why I existed, if it came to that. And I didn’t want to know any of the details. One of them had broken the other one’s heart – that much was clear. I just couldn’t tell who had done the damage.
‘OK. That’s fine,’ I lied. ‘We’ll do it another time.’
‘Thank you, Jess.’
‘Don’t thank me. I’m just respecting your choice.’
Dan was grinning again, this time in triumph. It made me feel sick. I walked off, not really thinking about where I was going or why. I just wanted to get away from them. I must have walked right through the centre of Port Sentinel but later I couldn’t remember anything about it. Somehow, I found myself on the path that wound through the woods, panting as the steep hill punished my legs again. I came out into the sunshine on the exposed headland with the distinct feeling that I was in the right place. I stood with my hands on my hips, letting my heart slow down, taking in the glorious view. I hadn’t planned it, but I’d ended up exactly where I needed to be.
Which was just about the worst place I could have picked. That whole thing about sensing I was walking into danger? Not a flicker. I didn’t realize how stupid I’d been until it was far too late.
10
AT FIRST I didn’t notice that there was anyone on the headland except me. Weirdly, although it had played a grim role in recent family history, I felt at ease there. It was something about the high ground, the sense of space, and air that no one else had breathed. I stared out to sea and saw nothing but endless distance. There was just peace. If I wanted to kill myself, I mused, I’d choose somewhere like that.
Kill myself?
And . . . breathe. The thought had come from nowhere, jarringly, and I became aware that I was shaking. It was the climb, I told myself. I was unfit and my muscles were complaining. It wasn’t the ghostly presence of my dear dead cousin lurking behind me. I wasn’t going to throw myself off the cliff either. Suicide was very far from my mind. As it had been from Freya’s, I was increasingly sure. I hadn’t heard one thing to make me think she was depressed when she died. There was no sign that she felt she couldn’t carry on. And there was no note. Freya would have left an elaborate manuscript complete with illustrations and calligraphy if she’d been signing off for good and always. What I had discovered was that there were plenty of people who didn’t want to talk about how Freya had died. If it was murder, I had a long list of suspects already.
I crossed to the bench and sat down, curling my legs under me. More deep breaths. I was enjoying the peace, I told myself. I was enjoying the solitude. I was glad Mum had ditched me in favour of her creepy old flame. It was easy to see where Will got his talent for upsetting me; it came naturally to both him and his father. It was the one thing they seemed to have in common – apart from their looks, obviously. Mum had pretty shocking taste in men if you were talking personalities, but she knew how to pick a looker.
The gorse bushes smelled sweet in the warm sunshine, their scent mingling with saltwater and pine trees and grass and dusty earth. Bottle it and you’d make a fortune. There was something else though; something sharper threading through the air. It was bittersweet, too faint to identify at first, but it grew stronger and more brackish as I sniffed the air. When I finally realized what it was, it was so banal and familiar a smell that I laughed. Someone was smoking nearby and the smoke had carried to where I sat. I hoped they weren’t planning to finish their cigarette on the bench I was occupying. I could do without reeking of second-hand smoke. Mum was bound to think it was my latest gesture towards teen rebellion.
I still had a smile on my face when I turned round to see if I could identify the person who was invading my space, and discovered that yes, I could. The other thing I discovered was that the headland had been a really bad choice. It was a dead end, for starters. I had nowhere to go to get away, and that was all I wanted to do, because Natasha Watkins was striding towards me on pipe-cleaner-thin legs clad in spray-on pink denim, her heels digging divots out of the dusty ground. She was flanked by her two friends, who were dressed in much the same uniform, and all three had huge sunglasses hiding their eyes. What I could see of their faces was not encouraging. The cigarette smoke came from the taller one – Claudia, if I remembered rightly. The smaller one, the one who’d seen me on Fore Street, didn’t look happy to be there, but that could have been the difficulty she was having balancing on her narrow heels. She didn’t look like a natural stiletto-wearer. She was too athletic for that.
As if they’d rehearsed it, they split up, Claudia going to one end of the bench and her mate to the other. Natasha came and stood in front, between me and the sea. I didn’t like being boxed in like that – not one bit – but I wasn’t scared. Not yet.
‘I’ve been looking for you.’ From the tone of Natasha’s voice, it wasn’t becau
se she wanted us to be besties. ‘I thought I warned you to stay away from Ryan.’
‘Yeah, you did warn me.’
‘So what happened?’
‘I decided to ignore your warning and take the consequences.’ I crossed my legs and folded my arms. Two can play the body-language game. ‘So what’s it going to be? A fight? Or are you going to glare me to death?’
Natasha’s nostrils flared, which I assumed was a genuine and involuntary reaction to being very annoyed. She would never have done it if she’d seen how it looked. ‘I could get really tired of your attitude.’
‘Well, that’s one thing we’ve got in common. Two things, if you count Ryan.’
‘Don’t.’ It wasn’t Natasha who had spoken; it was the smaller girl. I realized I didn’t know her name.
‘Don’t what? Provoke her?’ I laughed. ‘Sorry. I’m not scared of any of you. I’ve been more frightened on a funfair ghost train.’
‘You should be trying to make friends here. Not enemies,’ Claudia said. She was all legs and tumbling brown hair but nature had given her a proper horse face to offset them. She was holding her cigarette away from her body, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You’ll regret it if you piss us off. It’s no fun being on the outside.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘You mean it’s better to be in the pack? Regardless of what you have to do to stay in it?’
The other girl flinched. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that I like to make up my own mind about things. I’m pretty comfortable with being on the outside if it means I can be my own person.’ I shaded my eyes so I could see Natasha’s face more clearly. ‘You’re going to need a new threat, Tash. Tempting though you obviously think it is, I don’t want to be your friend. I’ve got friends.’
‘Not here, you don’t,’ Claudia said.
It was stupid to mind, but I did, and I couldn’t stop myself from replying. ‘Actually, I do have friends here.’
‘Friends? Like Darcy?’ The other one laughed. ‘You wait and see. She’ll drop you in a second if Nats clicks her fingers.’
‘Coco,’ Natasha said. ‘Shut up.’
I sat up at that. ‘Don’t shut up, Coco. Tell me more about Darcy.’
Coco looked at Natasha nervously. ‘Um. Nothing, really. Just that she wants to be in with Nats so you can’t count on her backing you up.’
‘Is that what happened with Freya?’
‘It came down to choosing a side. Darcy chose us,’ Natasha said, very calm although I had seen her react to Freya’s name with a tremor that ran through her skinny frame.
‘Darcy chose you. What did that mean for Freya?’
‘Darcy left her to fight her own battles.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the bad things that happened to her because she wouldn’t leave Ryan alone.’
I allowed myself a proper eye-roll. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. He’s not all that, Natasha. You need to get out more.’
‘We’re meant to be together,’ she snapped – and just like that, I lost my temper.
‘No, you’re not. Let me help you with this one, because I have a feeling your favourite book features romance with the beautiful undead and it’s rotted your mind. You’re not star-crossed lovers. You’re not battling through adversity to seal your immortal pact. You’re just really desperate to hang onto a boyfriend who was never that committed to you in the first place, and it’s making you behave like a lunatic.’
Natasha swore at me and I almost forgot to be annoyed with her, I was so impressed with the vocabulary she had at her disposal. When she paused for breath, I grinned.
‘Proving my point.’
‘You smug bitch. I bet you wouldn’t be so smug if you knew—’ She broke off.
‘Knew what?’
‘Knew how your cousin got her haircut. She wasn’t so pretty when I was finished with her.’ She’d recovered enough to smirk. Coco shifted uneasily; I had the impression she’d thought Natasha was going to say something else.
‘That was you, was it?’ I wasn’t actually surprised. It was Natasha’s logic all over. Ryan likes long hair. Ryan likes you. If you have short hair, Ryan won’t like you any more. Basic, stupid, dangerous. She wouldn’t change. I was quite happy with my hair as it was, and sweet reason wasn’t going to put her off. I stood up, enjoying the fact that I was still taller than her in trainers, despite her high heels. ‘Well, try it on me and I’ll have you done for assault. That’s if you can cut my hair. I don’t mind a fight and I don’t have any problem with hitting to hurt.’
‘Mm. Freya wasn’t keen on having her hair cut either. But the odds are against you if you’re on your own.’
‘Listen, Tash. I gather you’re trying to make me feel intimidated. Let me save you the trouble. I’m not interested in Ryan.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
‘It doesn’t?’
‘No, it doesn’t. What matters is if he likes you.’
‘I can’t stop him from liking me. Not that he does, I’m sure.’
‘I saw you yesterday. He was groping you.’ She was vibrating with anger. I almost felt sorry for her.
‘Don’t you think you were supposed to see it? He’s messing with your head. It’s easy to keep you keen by flirting with me.’
‘You don’t know him. He’s not like that.’
‘Really? Maybe you’re too close to see what he’s doing.’ I took a step nearer her. ‘Let me tell you what I think. You spend your time with your friends talking about him and why he hasn’t called you today, or what his last text meant, or why he tweeted that thing about Rihanna’s latest video. If he mentions he likes you in pink, you go shopping and buy every shade from bubblegum through to fuchsia. You spend weeks planning for his birthday or Christmas present and he gives you something random or nothing at all. He laughs at the messages you send him and shows them to his mates. He’s probably got nude pictures of you on his phone and so do half the male teenagers in the south-west because that kind of thing gets passed on pretty quickly. He knows exactly how to freak you out, and sometimes he’ll say something about you putting on weight to see how long it will take before you eat again. He looks at other girls, he flirts with other girls and he won’t commit to a proper relationship, but you’d still die if he went off with someone else because you are thoroughly and completely in his power. So I’m sorry, I don’t see why I should be scared of you when you don’t even have the sense to see you’re being played.’
‘Shut up. You’re wrong.’
I glanced at Claudia and Coco. ‘From the looks on their faces, I’m on the money.’
‘You don’t know anything,’ Claudia said. ‘You should be scared.’
‘Of you?’ I pointed at Natasha. ‘Of her?’
‘You do know what happened here, don’t you?’ Claudia had finished her cigarette and now she was clawing at the packet to take out another, her hands shaking as she put it in her mouth. I looked from her to Coco and then straight at Natasha, trying to read the expressions on their faces. Defiance, mainly, but there was a strange undertone of fear. I needed to tread carefully. Literally, looking at the edge of the cliff, which was all too close.
‘I know Freya fell here. Do you know how it happened?’
Instead of answering, Claudia looked at Natasha, who glowered.
‘You’ve said enough, Claude. Don’t tell her anything else.’
‘Yes, trot along, Claude. Time to get back to your stable.’ It was rude but I was fed up with the three of them.
‘You don’t get to talk to her like that,’ Natasha said. She took a step closer to me and her face was white. ‘You don’t get to talk to me like that.’
‘Nats . . .’ Coco was looking terrified.
‘I’ll show you how scared you should be.’ Before I could move, Natasha shot out a hand and grabbed a handful of my hair.
‘What are you doing?’ I’d never felt le
ss like laughing, but I managed it. ‘Don’t tell me you brought your scissors on the off-chance you’d get to use them.’
‘Come on.’ She yanked on the hair she was holding and I couldn’t help it: I stumbled towards her. It felt as if the whole lot was going to come out. She tugged again. ‘This way, bitch. Walkies.’
‘Let go.’ I was holding onto my hair. With my other hand I dug my nails into her skin, but it had zero effect. I kept them short – useless for self-defence – but even if they’d been talons she wouldn’t have noticed. Her face was white, her lips bloodless. I’d read about mad people being able to perform incredible feats of strength, and Natasha certainly looked insane. ‘Get off me.’
She pulled as hard as she could, leaning back, and I took another two steps. It was like being in a nightmare – nothing I did or said made any difference to her. I was vaguely aware that Coco and Claudia had moved to stand together, a little way off. They weren’t joining in but they weren’t trying to stop her either, and I wondered if they were as surprised as me at how strong Natasha seemed to be. I also wondered if they knew what she intended to do. The direction she was taking made me think it wasn’t going to be something I’d like, because we were moving towards the edge of the cliff, step by miserable step.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I want you to see what you should be scared of. I want you to see what Freya saw.’
‘I thought it was night-time when she died. Shouldn’t we wait until after dark?’ My smart mouth was going to get me killed, I thought. Really, genuinely dead. I should be begging her to let go, pleading with her, grovelling so she could see I was completely in her power, but something in me wouldn’t give in. Pride, probably. Which was stupid. She wasn’t stopping and the edge of the cliff was getting closer. Apparently Natasha wasn’t as scared of heights as I was. Or she was too angry to care. Or she was straightforward crazy. Whatever the reason, she didn’t seem to be anything like as worried as I thought she should be. The ground sloped a little, which didn’t help. Unless someone came to the rescue in the next five seconds, I was going to be in serious danger. Scared? I’d have been stupid not to be.